


Ignite

by gentledusk



Series: Aflame [2]
Category: F-Zero (Video Games), F-Zero GP Legend, F-Zero: Falcon Densetsu
Genre: Identity Reveal, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 20:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17794487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentledusk/pseuds/gentledusk
Summary: Ryu finally figures it out.





	Ignite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TalkingBackwards](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalkingBackwards/gifts).



> Finally, after one and a half years (whoops), I managed to finish the sequel...
> 
> This can be read on its own, but it will make a lot more sense if you read the previous fic first. Again, both these fics were spawned from [this fab art](http://betweentheteeth.tumblr.com/post/157177637242/uhh-so-i-started-watching-the-f-zero-anime-and)!

Not much has really changed since he’d kissed Bart that one evening at the Falcon House. He has his own job with the Platoon, Bart has his own job at the café, and it’s not like they even go on “dates” or anything. The difference is that when Ryu swings by the café now, Bart gives him these—looks. He’s always had a warm smile, the kind that makes you feel like you could tell him anything. But it feels like there's a little extra light in his eyes now when he looks at Ryu, like the rest of the world has blurred away.

Or maybe he’s just being a big sap.

Being a sap, though, doesn’t mean that he’s gonna feel more inclined to let Bart get away with things. Like Bart’s aggravating insistence on dodging any talk about his shoulder. Ryu’s not stupid; he _knows_ that if it really wasn't that serious, then Bart wouldn't be trying so hard to avoid talking about it. There must be some reason he’s doing it, and Ryu’s determined to find out why.

~

Eventually, with enough persistence, he ends up wearing Bart down. Not into actually giving a proper explanation of how he’d gotten the damned wound, but Ryu’s confident he can get to that too, given enough time. If there’s one thing he’s got Bart beat at, it’s sheer stubbornness. Ryu knows Jody would say that's really not something to be proud of, but she isn't here to tell him off or slap him about it right now. No, right now is the time for Bart to finally, _finally_ let him actually do something (however small) to help.

Namely, to let him put ointment on his shoulder. It’s good to know that Bart _has_ been treating it somewhat, but Ryu’s gonna be pretty pissed if he finds something hospital or even doctor-worthy and ointment’s the only concession to treatment Bart has made. He hasn’t been all shifty about it for nothing, after all. Is he afraid of doctors? Does he just hate hospitals? What’s his deal?

Regardless of what it is, it’s definitely easier to have someone else apply the medicine for him. Even Bart can’t argue with this cold, hard logic, which is how they’ve ended up here, in Bart’s room, after the Falcon House has been closed up for the day. Bart’s still in his work clothes, standing there by his bedside table as Ryu crosses his arms and scowls. The man in front of him looks alright, but appearances can be deceiving. If it _is_ something serious, then Ryu’s going to drag his ass all the way to a doctor, prevarication be damned.

Bart lets out a gusty sigh, but still flashes Ryu a rueful grin. “Guess I can't win this one, huh?”

Ryu shakes his head. There's no way Bart is gonna get out of getting some tough loving care, Suzaku-style.

Bart, still smiling, reaches up with his right arm to loosen and undo his bowtie. With the same hand, he starts to unbutton his shirt, exposing his neck and collarbone to Ryu's gaze.

Ryu coughs, turning his head away.

“Getting shy now, Ryu?” Bart asks, and Ryu can _hear_ the suppressed laughter in his voice.

Ryu’s head whips upwards. “I’m not—! Here!” he says, reaching out and grabbing the front of Bart’s shirt. “Let me do the rest. You’ll have a hard time getting the sleeves off by yourself anyway.”

“I can manage,” says Bart, though he lets his hand fall anyway.

Ryu takes that as permission and gets to work, scowling at the buttons and the strip of exposed skin as his fingers fumble more than expected. “You don't _have_ to manage by yourself though, that's the whole point. The Platoon taught me that it's ok to let others help you when you need it. I already know I can depend on you, so depend on me a bit too, would you?”

Bart really does laugh this time. “I guess I can't argue with that. You’re quite right, Ryu.”

“Damn straight I am,” Ryu grumbles. The last few buttons are being especially stubborn. Or maybe he's just especially distracted.

“I was under the impression that you weren't,” Bart says, mild as milk.

“Shut up, Bart.”

Soft laughter is his only response, and Ryu grins despite himself as he circles behind Bart to carefully work the fabric off his shoulders. He deliberately avoids looking at Bart’s left shoulder too closely, concentrating on getting the shirt off and folding it neatly once he's done. After that, he grabs the ointment Bart had mentioned off the table. Taking a deep breath, he turns back to the man himself, and swallows hard at the sight before him.

Two things immediately stand out to Ryu. The first is, of course, the scar. It stands out lividly, branded into Bart’s skin. _“Not so bad”_ , Ryu’s ass. It looks like a cross between and slash and a burn wound, and he wonders kind of what weapon or weapons could have caused it. He suspects that Bart really hasn't had it looked at, something he’s totally going to be nagging him about again later. The second thing he notices is that Bart looks...vulnerable, standing here now, in a way he’d never have expected of the man who's always there for him with a cup of coffee and a listening ear. Bart is a solid presence in his life, a steadfast source of support, so seeing evidence that he can be hurt just like anyone else is...unsettling. Upsetting, even. His straight-backed stance and unwavering gaze betray no hint of weakness, but Ryu still feels a strong urge to go out there and hunt down whoever’s responsible anyway.

“Why did that person attack you?” Ryu asks, tracing gentle fingers over the edge of the discoloured skin. He watches in fascination as Bart shivers, goosebumps rising over his unmarred flesh.

“I was...protecting someone,” Bart says. His voice is maddeningly even.

“Who?” Ryu asks, but Bart just gives him a strange, soft smile and doesn't reply.

Maybe it was Clank. Ryu makes a mental note to grill him about it later. For now, he merely unscrews the lid of the ointment jar, dips his fingers in, and starts to slather it on. A sharply indrawn breath makes Ryu flinch, though, and his hand stills as his eyes snap up to Bart's face.

“All right?”

Bart’s slapped another easygoing smile on his face, but Ryu can feel the tension in his muscles, can see the way he’s not quite looking Ryu in the eye. How often has he missed Bart’s discomfort in the past? How many times might he have missed things hidden behind that all-too-familiar grin?

“Ah, sorry,” says Bart. “I’m fine. I was just a little surprised.”

Ryu stares hard at him, but that damned smile never wavers. Turning back to the scar and huffing, he pauses when the puff of air causes Bart to shiver again, which—well. He's probably cold. Ryu should probably hurry up instead of wondering what would happen if he did it again. At least Bart can’t hide _all_ of his reactions.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he says, glaring at Bart for good measure. “I’m not gonna judge you for feeling pain, so you better not be hiding anything for my sake, alright?”

Bart's gaze falters, lips twitching downwards before his face smoothes back into that mild-mannered mask once more. “I’ll tell you,” he says, almost too quiet to hear. “Soon. I promise.”

“Well...good,” Ryu replies, nonplussed. Why _soon_? Does that mean he's not gonna say anything now? “Trust me a little, would you? I want to help.”

“I do,” Bart murmurs. “And you are. You always do.”

Ryu studies his face, but he's not yet skilled enough at reading Bart to gauge what he's truly feeling beneath it all. His lower lip juts outwards into the beginnings of a pout (no, not a pout, a very stern frown), which, strangely enough, makes Bart’s cheeks dimple with an honest-to-goodness grin. Ryu pouts (frowns) harder at him, which only makes Bart’s eyes crinkle at the corners, filled with such unbearable fondness that Ryu has to swallow and turn his eyes away. He stares hard at Bart’s shoulder, at the mysterious wound scarred into his skin, but Bart’s hand brushes his cheek and tilts his chin up and draws him into a slow, gentle kiss.

Bart rarely initiates things, in terms of physical affection. He’ll happily reciprocate, but most of the time he seems content to let Ryu take the lead. So these moments—these times when Bart plainly displays his affection through touch or words—are definitely not something Ryu takes for granted.

“I’m not gonna let this go, you know,” he mutters as Bart draws back.

Bart arches a brow, then glances at Ryu’s hand on his waist. “It would be quite difficult to serve customers with you hanging on to me, Ryu.”

“Shut up, you know what I meant.”

“That you don’t want to let me go?”

Ryu feels his cheeks heat and scowls to make up for it. Bart gives him an indulgent smile, and Ryu feels the sudden, intense desire to wipe that look right off his face.

“So what if I don’t?” he counters.

Bart’s cheeks flush a faint pink. Ryu counts this as a smashing success. It's good to know he can actually catch Bart off guard.

“Now, now,” says Bart. Sadly, the blush is already gone, but Ryu knows what he saw. “If I don't work, who will you and Jack beg food off of?”

He’s deflecting again, and Ryu knows it, but it doesn’t matter. Someday, _somehow_ , he’s gonna get it through Bart’s head that he really is committed to making this work, obtuse boyfriend and all.

He’s already lost (or _been_ lost to) someone precious to him thanks to things beyond his control. Now that he’s miraculously alive again, there’s no way in hell he’s going to let another chance like this slip through his fingers. Not if he can help it.

~

Ryu is loitering in the Platoon HQ when his chance arises. It’s just him and Clank hanging out on the couches right now, the relentless _clack-clack-clack_ of Clank’s fingers on his computer keys the only sound breaking the silence around them.

“Hey, Clank,” says Ryu. “Did Bart save you from some thugs or something?”

Clank’s fingers pause, and he glances up with an look that suggests he thinks Ryu is particularly slow. “The old man? No, why?”

“Well, he’s got a wound right here,” Ryu says, clapping his own left shoulder. “And he won't say much about it, only that he got cut protecting someone. Any idea what he's talking about?”

Clank turns the full force of his _are-you-dense_ look on Ryu for a moment before his face goes curiously blank. It's a little unsettling to see on a kid who normally has no problems broadcasting exactly what's on his mind.

“Eh, he told me he was fine. He's been taking a break from working anyway, remember?”

“How could I forget,” Ryu mutters, flashing back to the diluted travesty Clank had called “coffee”.

“I don't know much about it either, but you should probably stop asking him so much about it. The old man is probably just embarrassed about it or something, yeah?” Clank grins, putting both arms behind his head. He leans back on the couch, the picture of perfect relaxation.

Despite all appearances, Ryu isn't stupid. He wasn't made a cop for nothing. So he knows that Clank definitely knows more than he's letting on. Why Clank is hiding that information, though, is still a mystery. Maybe Bart asked him not to tell? Ryu already knows it's there, though, so why hide how it happened? Is it really as embarrassing as Clank suggested?

Ryu tries again to pry some more info out of Clank, but Clank just brushes off all his attempts and finally resorts to ignoring him altogether, staring resolutely at his computer screen and tapping away. Jack swings by at some point and distracts Ryu with some loud remarks about race rankings, and Clank seizes the chance to escape while Ryu is busy trying to shoo Jack away.

Stubbornness, indeed. It seems like Ryu's got a lot more competition in that department than he thought.

~

He’s not _moping_ , no matter how often Jack’s been telling him to lighten up lately. But it hasn't escaped Ryu's notice that Captain Falcon hasn't attended a race or even been seen around town lately. He turns to the screen, hoping to catch a glimpse of him on the news or something, but to no avail.

“Hey, Bart,” he says, when Bart is done serving another customer, “do you think Captain Falcon is really ok? He hasn't been around lately, what if he needs help?”

Bart pauses, setting a dirty mug down on the counter. Behind him, Clank slants a sideways glance at Ryu and then at Bart as well. Bart waves him off, and as Clank scurries away to take another order Bart sighs and turns to give Ryu his full attention.

“Come by here a little after closing time, if you can,” he says, leaning down so his face is closer to Ryu's. “There's something I think you need to see.”

“Yeah, sure,” says Ryu, though he's confused about what any of this has to do with Captain Falcon. “I’ll be here.”

Bart smiles at him. “Then I’ll be waiting. When you come in, open the fridge over there and pull out the middle juice container at the bottom, would you?”

“Um, sure thing.” Now he's even more confused. Maybe Bart wants refreshments while he's showing Ryu whatever he needs to show him? He's being awfully blasé about all this. Ryu opens his mouth to demand some real answers, but Bart just shakes his head and turns back to his dishes.

“Tonight, Ryu. I’ll answer all your questions, I promise.”

~

The Falcon House is dark when Ryu lets himself in later that evening, the dim yellow bar lights turning on as he walks into the empty café. Unless Clank is hiding behind the counter or something, there's no sign of anyone, and Bart hadn't actually told him what to do after making his strange request.

_Well,_ he thinks, _first things first._

Ryu heads over to the specified fridge, swinging the door open and bending down to examine the juice containers. Despite his scrutiny, he really can’t see anything special about them. With a sigh, he grabs the top of one and pulls...and pulls, and then pushes back in, because what the hell?

The sound of hissing steam makes him jerk back, narrowly managing to avoid getting clipped on the head by the fridge door slamming shut. The fridge rises before his eyes, sliding up out of the way to reveal a hidden door. The door opens of its own accord as Ryu rises to his feet, revealing a long, narrow corridor that's just as dimly lit as the rest of the place.

Well. Ominous hidden stairwells. Clearly going down one alone is a great idea. And he's going to do it anyway, because he has no sense of self-preservation.

Ryu steps into the creepy stairwell. The door closes behind him. He prods at it, but it seems to be firmly shut. Well, great. No backing out now. He continues down (as if he has any other options), keeping one hand on the wall and both ears alert to any sounds. When he finally reaches the bottom, the door at the end slides open as well, and as he steps out into the space beyond blinding white light floods the room around him.

It's...a hangar of some sort. Or a garage, with just about the last thing he expected to see sitting right in the middle. The Blue Falcon—he’d know that machine anywhere, and right now he can't tear his eyes away.

“I knew you'd come,” says a familiar voice, and Ryu spins around to come face to face with the pilot himself.

“Captain Falcon!”

“It's good to see you, Ryu.”

“What—Bart said—”

Captain Falcon watches impassively, standing ramrod straight with his arms resting by his sides. He's in his full racing outfit as always, golden pauldron gleaming in the spotlights and helmet hiding the majority of his expression. The only clue to his feelings left visible on his face is his mouth, but even that is set in a straight, neutral line. Not that the taciturn man is ever the most expressive racer on the track. It aggravates Ryu sometimes, but right now he's so bewildered that he has no idea what to say. He only ever sees Captain Falcon outside of races when there's trouble, so why is he here now? Well...he supposes it makes sense for him to be here, if this is his garage, but how did Bart…

“Are you alright?” he blurts out, suddenly remembering the reason he’d come to this whole late-night meeting to begin with.

Captain Falcon nods.

Ryu wants to grab him and shake him. “No, really, are you? I was there, I saw—and you haven't been to a race in a while—”

Captain Falcon’s lips twitch upwards. “Yes, really.”

Ryu stomps right up to him and grabs him by the lapels of his coat, because no way is he gonna get away with the whole “I’m fine” gig and pull a disappearing stunt like last time. Captain Falcon doesn't even have the decency to react, standing stock-still with the same unruffled expression on his face.

“Cut the bullshit,” he snaps, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. “Did you even go the hospital? See a doctor? Anything?”

“It’s been treated,” Captain Falcon says.

The words cut through the haze of his frustration, because Ryu _knows_ this conversation, knows this damned dismissive attitude towards his own health despite his clear concern for the welfare of others. He knows that voice and that wound.

“You—your shoulder—are you really—”

Captain Falcon graces him with a faint smile. “I knew you'd figure it out.” And before Ryu’s eyes, he lifts his helmet to reveal a face that Ryu knows intimately well.

It's a shock—of course it is. There are a million and one things he could say here, a million things that this could mean for him, for _them,_ but all he can do is stand there slack-jawed as his eyes confirm again and again just who is standing before him.

_“Bart?”_

“Ah,” he says, “there's another thing. My name—the name I was born with—is…Andy Summer.”

For a few moments, Ryu is speechless, his grip slackening as well as he takes in the revelations that've just been made. It makes a lot of sense, in retrospect. It explains how Bart had always seemed to know exactly what was troubling him (not that he's not exceptionally good at figuring it out anyway). How Clank had mentioned that he’d never actually gone to a race with Bart. How both Bart and Falcon had gotten injured in the exact same place at the exact same time. It makes a lot of sense, but he's still having trouble wrapping his mind around it, because if Bart is Captain Falcon and also Andy Summer (seriously, how many secret identities does the guy have?), then that means...

“H-Hey! You mean all this time I’ve been making out with Captain Falcon _and_ Jody’s brother and I didn't know it?”

Cap—Bart—Andy?’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “ _That’s_ the part you're focused on?”

He sounds incredulous and slightly doubtful of Ryu's sanity. Ryu is used to people feeling this way around him, seeing how some of his teammates express their disbelief in his higher mental processes on a daily basis. At least Cap—Bart is actually showing emotion now.

“Oh, man,” Ryu says for good measure, smacking himself in the forehead. “Jody would _kill me_ if she knew. And then she'd kill you for not telling her sooner. Seriously. Did I ever tell you how we all thought she was gonna clock me with a wrench one time?”

Startled laughter rings through the air, coming from—Bart. It's still the Bart he knows and loves, underneath it all. Well, unless…

“Hey,” he says, “do you want me to call you ‘Andy’?”

Bart (he's sticking with “Bart” for now) blinks at him, like the question is one that he’d never have expected. Like he's never considered the possibility of being called by his old name again.

Ryu wonders when was the last time someone called him by that name. Has it been weeks? Months? Years, even?

“I...no,” Bart says eventually, and the words carry a weight of finality to them. “Andy Summer died in that explosion three years ago. I’m Bart Lemming now.”

Ryu squints at him. “You don't have to pick one or the other, you know. It's not like your identities are different cars crashing into each other on the racetrack because they were all fighting for first place. They’re all parts of you, like...well, maybe one is the engine, and another is the boost, and...and that was a horrible metaphor, wasn't it. Did that even make any sense?”

Bart is laughing again. This is what he gets for trying to be philosophical. He’d normally bristle at being reduced to comic relief, but making Bart laugh is well worth it. Even if he does feel like an idiot.

“I know what you mean, Ryu,” says Bart. He's still smiling, but it's fond rather than mocking. “I’m just not used to hearing my old name anymore, so I think it’d be strange to hear it again. And switching between two names in public and private might get confusing. So—just call me Bart. Like you said, it's not like that isn't who I am.”

Ryu’s brow furrows. “I did say that. But I also asked whether you _wanted_ to be called ‘Andy’, not what you think would be easier. Aren’t you the one who keeps telling me the job isn’t everything?” He crosses his arms and looks Bart (Falcon, Andy) right in the eye. “So, even if it’s only when no one’s around, tell me. What do you want to be called?”

It occurs to him, belatedly, that they are standing exceptionally close. It occurs to him, because that closeness is the only reason he manages to catch the flash of vulnerability that flits across Bart’s face, the slight parting of lips and widening of eyes as he stares at Ryu like he doesn’t know how to respond. Like he’s never even thought about what he wants.

Maybe he hasn’t.

“I want…” Bart starts, like he’s tasting the words. He stops, stares, and for once in his cryogenically extended life Ryu feels like the elder of the two of them even if he hasn’t really lived as many years. Bart’s eyes are very, very blue, blinking owlishly at Ryu like he can’t even think of a response to what should be such a simple question.

“Andy,” he says, testing the weight of the name on his tongue.

Bart’s breath hitches.

“Andy,” he says again. “Is that alright?”

Bart breaks his gaze and bows his head, but not before Ryu catches a glimpse of suspiciously bright eyes.

“Andy,” he says, softer this time. When Bart doesn’t reply, he adds, “If you don’t want—”

“No,” says Bart. He still hasn’t looked up, but he’s shaking his head vigorously. “No, it’s...fine.”

Ryu frowns. “‘Fine’ doesn’t mean ‘good’.”

“It’s good,” he insists, finally lifting his head to show not a single trace of tears. “I just haven’t been called that in a very long time, so it took me by surprise. If you really want to try this…I can’t say I mind.”

“I’m not gonna just ‘try’, I’m gonna do it,” says Ryu, scowling. “Have some more faith in me!”

This, of all things, is what makes Andy smile again, a slow curve of lips and flash of teeth that lights up the entire room.

“I do,” he says. “And I know you will. You always do.”

And this, of all things, is what makes Ryu flush, just the...the casual _faith_ in him, the simple, unwavering belief that Andy (Bart, Falcon) always has in him that makes him feel both humbled and determined to live up to it.

No matter how many mistakes he’s made, there are still people who continue to have faith in him—so he’s just gonna have to continue giving them his all. Whether it’s remembering names, or just learning how to not be so reckless...he’s going to try his best not to let them all down.

~

True to his word, he does manage to use the right names at the right times...even if he does stumble over them a little more whenever Jody’s around. Ryu’s pretty sure she _deserves_ to know her last remaining family is alive, but...Andy trusted him with this. It's not his place to tell—though if Andy _does_ take too long to sort things out between them, then Ryu might just have to step in anyway.

(He has no idea how Clank does it, really, and he’s still the _tiniest_ bit sulky that Clank found out first. Andy just laughs knowingly when he first sees the sullen look he shoots Clank’s way, and maybe it shouldn’t surprise him anymore that he always knows exactly what’s on Ryu’s mind.)

Maybe, then, it’s the desire to actually _surprise_ Andy that spurs his request that night, or maybe it’s just the need to make sure he actually _rests_ after Ryu looks after his shoulder again.

“Hey, Andy,” he murmurs after he’s finished with the ointment. “Can I sleep with you?”

Andy’s cheeks turn a shade of pink he never knew they could, and if he couldn't feel the heat of them against his palms he would've thought he was hallucinating. Ryu has no idea if it's because of what he's asking, or because of what Andy might _think_ he's asking, but both are pretty charming options. He’s even forgotten to paste the usual disarming smile on his face.

“Ah…Ryu—”

“I meant literal sleep,” Ryu interrupts, just to make sure. “Like, you know, catch some Z’s? Lie down and conk out? Maybe grab a pillow or two? That kind.”

Andy gives him a bland look. “Is there another kind I’d be thinking of?”

“Shut up, Andy.”

The laughter that sparks—that's the kind that Ryu likes to hear. Happy and free, unfettered by any lingering awkwardness or doubt. It's regrettable that pulling Andy’s face forward and kissing him again cuts it short, but not enough to stop Ryu from doing it. Andy’s no longer laughing when they finally draw apart, but his smile is warm and _real_ and he looks at Ryu like he's his favourite customer and his favourite blend of coffee and his favourite racecar all rolled into one.

“What brought this on?” Andy asks, waving a hand at the bed.

Ryu plops down on it, sprawling backwards onto the covers. “Can't I just be spontaneous?”

“You’re always spontaneous.”

Ryu raises his head to squint at him. “Is that your way of calling me reckless again?”

Andy doesn't bother to dignify that with a reply.

Ryu shakes his head and lets himself fall back again. Outside, Mute City is either settling down for slumber or revelling in the night life. Below them, the Falcon House sleeps, waiting to welcome new customers the next day. Beside him, Andy lies down and settles in, a warm, steady presence by him as always.

It's not the future he’d previously imagined for himself. But he’s definitely thankful for what he has now.


End file.
